(I started teaching at this school halfway into the year. I’m a relatively new teacher, so I’m still a bit timid in the staff room. I am also often self-conscious about my eating habits. I go out one day in June, a few weeks before the end of the school year, to grab a coffee at lunch. I come back with a donut. It’s a pretty extravagant-looking thing and catches the other teachers’ attention.)

Teachers: *commenting on the delicious donut*

Me: “I know, I know. It’s really unnecessary; I shouldn’t have bought it. But I’m having salad for dinner tonight, so I guess I can kind of justify it.” *apologetic smile*

(Immediately, three teachers whip their heads up to look at me.)

Teacher #1: “IT’S JUNE.”

Teacher #2: “That’s all the justification you need.”

Teacher #3: “In fact, that’s not enough. Have this, too.” *breaks off half of her cookie and slides it over to me*

(My brother, who is months away from adulthood, is trying to confront my mum on the issue of her regularly employing emotional blackmail to get him to do what she wants. It has made him miserable enough that it’s impacted his morale and made him less willing to study, not more. He decides to bring it up with her. My dad and I are in the same room, although we’ve mostly been quiet so that he can do the talking on his own behalf. I have seen enough of these “interventions” with my mum to know that unless my brother is willing to firmly enforce the boundaries he’s trying to set, any change in behaviour from my mum will be lucky to last a week. As such, although I’ve always tried to encourage my brother to stand his ground, I have grown rather weary and cynical towards these family meetings, and I’ve particularly run out of patience for my mum’s excuses or “defenses.” At this point, they have been discussing and arguing, practically in circles, for at least half an hour now.)

Brother: “The thing that I really hate, Mum, is when you threaten to call up my friends and teachers when you think I’m playing too much or not studying hard enough, or whatever. It’s really hurtful.”

Dad: *in disbelief* “No… Really? Seriously, [Mum], you can’t be doing this; he’s almost 18!”

Me: “Mhm.”

Brother: “Yes! And she’s actually gone through with it, too, when I tried calling her bluff; she actually picks up the phone and starts calling them.”

Mum: *indignant* “You’re making things out to be so much worse than they really are! How many times have I done that, [Brother]? Was it every time? Was it every day?”

Brother: *groans in frustration* “No, but—”

(With that, my patience is out. I have run out of f***s to give.)

Me: *rolls eyes* “Oh, gee, Your Honour, I know I’m facing murder charges, but let’s look at the facts here: it’s not like I killed someone every day, so can you really call me a murderer? I mean, fair’s fair.”

(My brother has his head in his hands. My dad tries to shush me and stifle a chuckle at the same time and is rather unsuccessful in both endeavours. My mum makes a point of ignoring me. She regains composure and tries again, a little quieter this time.)

Mum: *deliberately not looking at me and addressing only my brother* “Tell me, [Brother], did I do that today?”

Me: *throwing my hands up dramatically* “Oh, Your Honour! The unfairness of it all! Okay, so maybe I did kill some people in the past month, but Christ, give me some credit! I didn’t kill anyone today, did I?!”

(My dad lost it and collapsed into a fit of giggles while my brother just about threw his hands in the air. I don’t think much progress was ultimately achieved that day. I may have been a bit unhelpful in that regard. Oops.)

(I work in a library.)

Customer: “You! Question!”

Me: “Yes, sir?”

(The customer gestures at the public computers in the middle of the room.)

Customer: “Why is it people who want to play stupid Internet games for an hour get to sit in plush comfort, while those of us who want to use the library services have to stand?”

Me: “I’m not sure what you mean.”

(The customer points to the far end of the room, where a catalogue-only computer is on a high desk, with no chair.)

Customer: *increasingly loudly* “I want to look up books, which is what this place is here for, and I am forced to stand to do so, while anyone who wants to waste library resources gets to sit in plush comfort.”

Me: “I see. Well, there’s two catalogue computers next to the photocopier; those have chairs if you’d like to sit down while you look up your books.”

Customer: “I am not wasting library resources, unlike everyone else in here.”

Me: “Of course. Also, the catalogue is Internet-based, so you can really use any of the computers to look up books, but you’ll need to log in with your library card.”

Customer: “I need to log in to use a chair?“

Me: “Not if you use the catalogues next to the photocopier.”

(The customer glares at me for a moment, then turns to leave. He stops at the door, turns back toward me, and points at me, scowling.)

Customer: “PLUSH COMFORT!”

Customer #2: “…what?”

Me: “I have no idea.”

(My girlfriend and I head downtown, where she has repeatedly told me she is going to get me a “surprise.” We stop at a restaurant across from a shopping mall. I order something small, while she orders a fancy half-order of eggs benny. Shortly, our waiter returns.)

Waiter: “Okay, so, there was a mix-up in the kitchen, and instead of making you a half-order, they made you a full order. But don’t worry; we’ll only charge you for the half-order.”

(At this point I’m thinking, great! We can split it! Awesome!)

Girlfriend: “Actually, I want to head across the street for a bit. Can you just hold this for me until I come back?”

Waiter: “Well… we won’t be able to hold it; we’d just make you a new one when you get back…”

Girlfriend: “Okay, I’ll be back soon!”

(I was completely stunned. I wish I had told her to just stay and eat her food, but I was so speechless at her actions I just sat there staring at her as she left. The waiter went to the kitchen to throw the perfectly good meal in the garbage, and returned to ask me to move to a different table off in the corner. I then sat there for an ENTIRE HOUR waiting for my girlfriend to return, and when she got back acted like it was a completely normal thing to do, waited for and ate her original half-order of breakfast, and we left with her acting all bubbly and excited for the rest of the outing we’d had planned. I was too humiliated to personally apologize to our waiter, so I just left him a note on our table and tipped him 100%. When we got home, that night, she finally gave me my surprise: a ”sexy” new outfit for herself. She had taken so long because she had to keep trying on different ones. I wanted to strangle her.)

(We have a woman spend a lot of money with us on a credit card. A couple of weeks later we get a notice from the bank disputing the charges. I am very panicked as it’s a lot of money and even though I am not the one who served her, I was the manager on duty and did help with the packing of her purchases, so I feel responsible. Amidst the panic, I am formulating how I would pay back the lost money to the company when the manager calls me into the office. She’s been going through camera footage.)

Manager: “I can see that you’re helping wrap. Didn’t you notice anything about the customer? Did the card look fake or anything?”

Me: “No, I was really only wrapping between my own customers”

Manager: “You can see she knows exactly where the cameras are; she keeps her face covered or turned away. Here is the footage where the signature on the card is being checked so I know that was done right. But we have no idea how to get her because she gave a fake name. All I’ve got is a few shots of her on the camera at the counter.”

Me: *finally thinking straight* “Wait a minute. Is the camera outside the door real?”

(We used to have mostly fake cameras but a lot were replaced by real ones.)

Manager: “Yes, I’ve seen where she walks in the store on it.”

Me: “Go to [time] on it.”

Manager: “Okay, done it. What am I looking for?” *right then a car pulls up in full view of the camera*

Me: “That’s her car. I just remembered telling her to bring her car to the front of the store to make it easy.”

(We watched as she got out of the car, her full registration number clearly shown. Last I heard the woman is now doing five years, because she had been caught doing the same thing before. She had also done the same thing at our other branches. The card was actually real. She used a misspelling of her name to apply for it, so it was the bank’s fault because they didn’t check it against her ID properly.)

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